RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
by Sensha-Do
Summary: Reimu goes on some totally metal adventures.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N:This story is heavily inspired by "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" by Secondpillow. All Touhou stuff is (c) Team Shanghai Alice and ZUN.)**

Reimu Hakurei was awakened by a sawing sound. She got up from her sentient throne of bones and saw Marisa pleasuring Alice with her adamantite witch's broom, which had some sick tribal graphics and a kickin' sound system. "I thought I told you not to do that on this floor of the palace," said Reimu as she reached for her miko stick.

The miko stick had been carved by blind clockmakers who were also sex offenders from the firstborn son of a tree made of the metaphysical concept of murder. The ribbon on the end had been woven by the three fates from the eternally screaming essence of a ghost that claimed it had seen a dead guy once. Also, power metal was playing the whole time. It was truly the mikoest of sticks.

Reimu hefted the miko stick in her tatooed hand and threw it at Marisa. It impacted her face head-on, piercing both her eyes as well as her uterus, and giving her the most mindblowing orgasm she had ever experienced. As Marisa quivered on the damp floor, Reimu pointed at Alice. "Have at thee, knave!" she challenged.

"Wait, dawg," said Alice. She reached behind her head and unzipped herself, revealing that she was actually Snoop Dogg. "I got da kush right here." Snoop held up a 50-kilo sack of something dark purple and moving.

"I'll get the razor blades," answered Reimu. And then she and Snoop got high.


	2. Chapter 2

Reimu was hungry. She lay down in the middle of the shrine's yard and opened her mouth. The TV had told her it was spaghetti with a chance of meatballs today. Then, a gap opened above the shrine's door. Its color was a purple made with the darkness only found at the center of a dying star that had been abused by its parents and forced to listen to jazz fusion. The gap was filled with eyes whose pupils were actually mouths that had teeth that were eyes.

The door to the shrine slammed open, and Yukari was standing there wearing her mastercrafted artificer relic power armor. Every plate of armor was actualy a different kind of skull, and had spikes that had more skulls on them, and those skulls had spikes with more skulls so that there were 666 to the 666th power skulls.

"Reimu!" called Yukari. "Embrace your anger and join me! It's time to throw down the corpse-emperor so that the Dark Gods may rule!"

"Sorry," replied Reimu, "but I've got places to fuck and people to be." She pulled the trigger on the 69-millimeter cockrocket.

The rocket, hand-crafted by insane librarians in the finest forges of Newark, New Jersey, flew out of its tube. Its nose cone was a 39-way symmetrical fractal penis, and its filling was twenty kilos of rape. The warhead struck Yukari in the chest and blew her into a heretofore-undiscovered dimension made out of chocolate and emotional trauma.

Reimu was still hungry.


	3. Chapter 3

Reimu awoke in the middle of a conversation her subconscious was having with Aristotle about how badass it would be if you could eat a $5 footlong and fight a war against the Outer Gods at different, though similar, times. She kicked Socrates in the fucking dick and then punched her subconscious's lights out, because that arrogant prick just broke the rules for the last goddamn time.

Reimu walked off Broadway and into the Netherworld. She saw Youmu there. Youmu said, "Halt, in the name of the Yellow King!"

"John, what are you saying?" answered Reimu.

"My name is Youmu!" replied John.

"No, John! You _are_ the Youmu!" screamed Reimu.

And then Youmu was a sword.


	4. Chapter 4

Reimu walked into Hakugyokurou and looked at the 5000-mile pentagram made of death hanging above it. "Who the fuck didn't think of this already?" Reimu screeched. With a noise like a billion tiny birds sighing in happiness as they simultaneously married their true loves and destroyed their enemies's lives beyond all repair, Yuyuko appeared.

"What do you get when you cross an owl with a bungee cord?" she taunted.

Reimu screamed a silent scream that echoed through the cosmos as the cursed words impacted her eardrums. She gathered her power, and her power was so that her eyes glowed whiter than a very pale white man at a Tyler Perry movie. She raised an amulet and it shot a million billion lasers of fuck.

The fuckbeams hit Yuyuko from all directions and as she was hit her ample chest bounced in a manner whose directions were not constrained by the meager three spatial dimensions we humans use a frame of reference.

"I win again, _puta_," Reimu said as she took another bite of her sandwich.


	5. Chapter 5

Reimu awoke as she danced on a stage in front of two and ten million ecstatic fat people and neo-Nazis. Her beautifully formed, perky, firm-yet-supple, moderately-sized (but definitely not small) breasts bounced inside the tight metamaterial weave of her stealth-model miko armor.

"Ooooooo-chin-chiiiiiiin ga daisukiiiiiiiiii dayoooooooooooooooo!" she sang. The crowd went wild. As the music stopped she struck a pose, closed one eye, and made an Illuminati glyph-sign with the hand she was holding nearest her face. As the crowd stormed the trucks for various phallus-shaped shrine maiden merchandise, Reimu activated the cloaking utility on her armor. She strode invisibly backstage and drew the obsidian blade her spirit animal (a lion-tiger-bear hybrid) had given her when she'd went on a vision quest last summer. Pacing into the roadies' blood-arena, she found exactly who she'd been looking for: The hydraulically-reanimated corpse of Osama bin Laden.

"You!" Reimu pointed her blade at Osama.

"The power of the Dark Lord drives my very being!" screamed the Arab as he lunged at her.

"Chin-Chin-anzr would never bless one as weak as you! Fhtagn!" Reimu cursed in R'lyehan and thrust the nano-edged blade into bin Laden's neck. He screeched as demonically-energized 10-weight oil gouted from the wound in ropy bursts.

Reimu yelled, "I just saved America! But now I've got to track down the real force behind this great country's decline!"


	6. Chapter 6

Reimu walked into the Great Mausoleum. Seiga was up on the steps benching and jamming out to Limp Bizkit while Yoshika freestyled in the corner to the beat from "The Power of Love" by Huey Lewis and the News.

"Stop, in the name of America!" cried Reimu.

Seiga (also known as 'the Wicked of the Wu' in some circles) sipped her protein shake and said, "Is dis nigga serious?"

"Where da kush at?" called Yoshika from the corner.

Seiga yelled "Yo! Miz Miyako! Why doncha get off yo ass 'n pop a cap in dis nigga's azz."

"Yeah, boss," said Yoshika as she pulled out her Hi-Point.

"The power of the eagle compels you!" Reimu flew through the air faster than an F-15 (the "F" is for "freedom") and slammed Yoshika's Crip face with a flying snake kick. Under the punishing force of the blow, Yoshika melted into a very mellow puddle.

"Man, naw" muttered Seiga. She reached down her baggy Taoist trousers, fishing for her Glock.

While the Wicked's hand was occupied down the front of her pants, Reimu put on a pair of aviators and assumed a heroic pose. "By the power vested in me by the Illuminati and its unholy masters, I now pronounce you-" she removed the sunglasses-"man and _knife_!" The obsidian blade, blessed by ancient Kiowa spirits, arced perfectly through the air and embedded itself through Seiga's forehead. She dropped. As the Wicked bled out on the ground, she choked out: "I…didn't even…get…mad swole…" Seiga died.

"This is why America's youth must not be allowed to participate in so-called 'hip-hop culture.'" Reimu said sadly as she surveyed the bloody tableau.

_Meanwhile, on the Killuminati Moonbase_

The members of The Most Ancient and Holy Clan of Wu Tang entered the room and sat around the table, faces hidden in shadow. The one at the head of the table opened the meeting. "The Wicked of the Wu has failed us down on Earth."

"Most disappointing," stated the one on his left.

"She must be replaced, and quickly," said the one two down on his right.

"And the shrine maiden _must_ be removed from the equation." said another.

From the opposite end of the table, a voice dripping with arcane power spoke: "Dat ho be wack."


	7. Chapter 7

"I swear, foul creature of the Warp, you shall not leave this place alive. All the power of the Imperial Inquisition is arrayed against you. Surrender now, and perhaps your dying shall be quick." Reimu pointed her ancient force hammer at her adversary as she made the declaration.

"Pretty words, Inquisitor Hakurei" growled the thing standing opposite her. "But nothing can stop me. The white-hot bronze blood of _KHORNE_ runs through my veins!" And indeed, the thing was terrifying. Its posture hunched, its muscles massively overdeveloped, its eyes, one blue, one red, filled with malice. It swung its warped umbrella before it, the Cyclopean face upon it constantly changing, each form more horrific and mind-warping than the last.

All the time the beast of Chaos had been speaking, Inquisitor Hakurei had been reciting the Litanies of Hate and Banishment, those same litanies inscribed in gold upon the ancient ceramite plates of her mahogany-colored power armor.

"Cease your blasphemies, demon!" Reimu shouted. "Let us end this now!" The power field around her force hammer ignited with the scent of ozone.

The brass plates sunk into the knuckles of the Khornate beast began to glow with a burnt-blood radiance, filling the air with the reek of murder as the blasphemous logoglyphs etched into their surface shifted and screamed.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" it howled, and it charged, swinging its monstrous umbrella above its head.

"By the God-Emperor's righteous hatred," Reimu cried and charged to meet the oncoming demon, "BE PURGED!"

Shou smiled at Bishamonten's Pagoda. "I'm glad I have you back," she said, and gave it an affectionate poke.

The pagoda exploded with energy equivalent to twenty-five megatons of TNT. The Palanquin Ship was utterly annihilated, its substance reduced in an instant to base elements and free fermions. The shockwave of the airburst knocked down forests in a massive radius, destroyed homes and other buildings in the human village, and nearly woke Yukari up.

Gensokyo's nuclear winter lasted years.


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N: This one's a bit long. The "Reimu cursing in Mexican slang" thing is something I've shamelessly ripped off from Stevo's Stuff. Check him out.)**

_Meanwhile, in a London slum_

"Charlie! You've found it!" Grandpa Joe exclaimed with almost-childish glee.

"I did! I really found it! I've got the last golden ticket!" Charlie shouted as he hugged his grandfather "Now everything will be perfect!"

_500 feet above the Bucket household_

"Moriya faithslut! You wouldn't know a good spellcard if it fucked you in the ass without the goddamn common courtesy of giving you a reach-around!" Reimu yelled hoarsely at her opponent.

"At least I don't have the color scheme of a used tampon, barrier bitch!" Sanae screamed back.

"_Pinche puta!_ Point that faggy placard thing at me one more time and I'll shove it so far up your schoolgirl-prostituted ass you'll be eating even more wood for breakfast than usual!"

"Oh yeah? Try m-"

There was a deep bass rumble that vibrated the very air. Blasts of lightning cracked and thundered all around. And a strange glass box flew through the sky towards the two miko.

"BAD BITCHES MUST BE PUNISHED!" boomed the figure atop the box (which, upon further inspection, was made not from glass but from the flash-frozen tears of fallen angels, and inscribed in troll's blood with the names of the first 666 badass motherfuckers to have died in the service of the unholy and totally sick gods of rock 'n' roll). The light bent toward the man as if pulled by a gravitational singularity, revealing him to be none other than William S.S. Wonka (the first 'S' standing for 'six six six' and the second for 'Satan'). He spoke a thaumaturgic hex in the Black Speech, and his shirt spontaneously erupted in Satanic flames, leaving him dressed only in extremely flattering red leather pants and weed-leaf sunglasses (Jamaican-colored). It was totally fucking metal.

"NOW, IN THE NAME OF JAH, LET US MAKE SOME FUCKING CHOCALATE." The magic circles and dread runes carved into Wonka's strapping chest flared.

There was a soundless sound, and the sky broke.

"REIMU, YOU LYING SKANK! YOUR SWEET, TIGHT ASS IS MINE AND MINE ALONE!" Yukari roared in through a disgustingly moist wormhole on the roof of an H-8 Allegheny steam engine. She wore only Christmas-themed bondage gear; her arms were wrapped in tiny, dong-shaped Christmas lights. A very stiff and full-looking Santa hat was bolted to the front of her leather panties with grade 8 industrial hardware.

"Hehhh, heh heh heh…the EVIL COUNCIL HAS ARRIVED!" Betty, him of the elastic owl ass and pyramid caps, formerly known as Master Pain, chuckled his way onto the scene atop a pyramid-shaped French interstellar warship. "Your clothes are about to be red…WITH BLOOD!" he called as he lazily swung the chain of his iron claws.

A gout of brimstone erupted from the cobbled street, and three meteoric objects streaked up into the air to the haunting strains of a disembodied power metal guitar. "But wait! Never count out…CHANNEL TWO NEWS, WITH WES MANTOOTH!" announced Wes Mantooth from atop his 12-ton cybernetic hellsteed, named Mantootheater. His Channel Two cronies giggled in support.

"Well then," Reimu said guardedly. "Looks like we've got ourselves a Brazilian standoff."

"HUEHUEHUE BRBRBRBR," said Sanae.

Each party readied its weapons. Truly, this would be a fight for the ages.

Reimu had prepared for this her entire life. Every thought in her mind seemed cold and sharp to the touch. Mantooth was the weakest here. He would die quickly and easily. Yukari could be distracted and backstabbed. Wonka was more of an unknown, but from what she had seen he wasn't on her level. Betty, though…he was a wild card. She gripped her miko stick tighter.

A flash of light, a burst of sparks, several explosions in rapid succession. The coolest fucking vehicle ever built by any race in the past and future history of the universe suddenly popped into being. It was a fusion-powered DeLorean DMC-12, augmented with flight capabilities, sick chrome hubcaps with whitewalls, and a flux capacitor. It slammed into Reimu head-on and the world went dark.

_Some time…later?_

Reimu awoke in the middle of a very green patch of grass. She sat up and looked around. Near her was a sign that read:

WELCOME TO THE HILL VALLEY PUBLIC PARK

_Clean up after your fucking dog, you slobs_

Reimu grabbed a newspaper out of a nearby trash can. The date at the top was "November 5, 1955."

"Damn you, McFly," Reimu whispered. "Damn you to _hell._"


	9. Chapter 9

The Hakurei shrine Christmas party was in full swing. The people of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, the Misty Lake, the Garden of the Sun, Hakugyokurou, the Human Village, Eientei, Chireiden, the Nameless Hill, Mayohiga, Heaven, the Great Mausoleum, the Myouren Temple, the Forest of Magic, Youkai Mountain, and everywhere else in Gensokyo had all come at the Hakurei shrine maiden's invitation. And they were partying _hard._

Suika and Yuugi had finished drinking Komachi under the table and were now engaged in a very wobbly game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who got the first throw in oni beer pong (a game played with kegs rather than Solo cups).

Alice and Patchouli were in a corner discussing the finer points of eightfold-variant summoning circles while Koakuma, tie loose and shirt becoming gradually unbuttoned, sang Paranoid by Sabbath (with a fuckin' metal Prismriver accompaniment) from atop a table.

Yukari, after beating Seiga in the world's most confusing game of no-holds-barred bocce, had gotten utterly hammered on 201-proof sake and was asleep on the ceiling. While Ran tried to wake up her master and restore her to conventional physical laws (unsuccessfully), Yoshika was comforting her own wicked master, who was currently blubbering out drunken tears of defeat.

The rest of the Taoists were busy proselytizing to a group of humans, who (along with Futo) were mostly there to watch the Crown Prince sparkle.

Byakuren, in an effort to make the most of an event based almost entirely on alcohol consumption, was beating out a sutra-chant on an empty bottle. Yamame and Koishi listened intensely, bobbing their heads to the beat. Meanwhile, Shou was busy getting lit up and watching Kaguya and Mokou have a very angry game of volleyball with the Jeweled Pagoda playing the part of the ball. Nazrin just put her head in her hands and took another bite of the bread Rumia offered her.

Yuyuko had pulled a chair up to the buffet table and was in full-on black hole mode. Youmu seemed to have given up moderating her consumption and had fallen asleep next to her. Satori surveyed the scene with a very odd look on her face, until Eirin offered her a totally-not-suspicious bottle. Behind her, Tewi giggled and Reisen challenged anyone who wanted to staring contests. Kanako sat nearby, telling old war stories while Suwako corrected every word in between hiccups.

Cirno, Daiyousei, Chen, Kisume, and Wriggle were engaged in a tag-team danmaku battle with the two Lilies and the Three Fairies of Light. Keine refereed even as she cheered them on.

Sanae was on the shrine's roof, Flandre Scarlet on her shoulders. Her sister Remilia was on _her_ shoulders, yelling "WE! ARE THE GREATEST OF ALL HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHHS!" Sakuya and Meiling watched, tears in their eyes, and began a slow clap.

And Reimu sat on the shrine porch, content to sip her sake and watch the revelry. Maria walked over and plopped down next to her. She wore a necklace of mushrooms, and her face was a bit flushed from drink. "How come you let all these youkai and weirdos trash your shrine every year?" Marisa asked in a genuinely curious, if brusque tone. "Doesn't it freak out the humans? And the mess must be insane!"

"Well, lots of them would come even if I told them not to. I mean, if Yukari wants to go somewhere it's not like you can really stop her." answered Reimu.

"I know, but you even invited people-well, ghosts and animals and things and whatever- that wouldn't have come otherwise."

Reimu sighed. "You kind of said it yourself, Marisa. Look at all the different kinds of people- beings?- that are here. It's probably the most diverse group of thinking beings ever. And they're all having fun and getting along like they were siblings."

"…and?"

"I'm the Hakurei shrine maiden." Reimu said flatly. "One of my duties is to exterminate youkai and serve the humans of Gensokyo in that capacity. But my highest calling is to keep the peace in Gensokyo. Sometimes I do that by resolving incidents. But other times, it's easiest and best to do it this way, by inviting everyone to a neutral zone and getting drunk together."

Marisa looked skeptical. "And that's important enough to scare everyone and let your shrine get wrecked?"

Reimu looked up, and then down, as if what she was going to say was tough to put into words. "Hmmm…well, ah…I guess it's also because whatever our disagreements and fights, whatever our species, even…they're my friends. I like to see them. I like them to be together and be happy. And I feel the same way about you, Ms. Black-white." She elbowed Marisa affectionately.

"Huh," muttered Marisa, clearly embarrassed. I guess when you put it like that…" She broke off and gave her old friend a hug. "I'm glad to have you too."

**(A/N: Nope, no weirdness this time, just sappy crap. I'm sorry, but this is what I felt like writing. Next time, though, perhaps we'll find out if Reimu can escape from the year 1955…Great Scott!)**


	10. Chapter 10

Reimu walked into Hill Valley's small-town diner and sat down heavily on a red vinyl stool.

"Gimme a fuckin' vodka," she said. "This is such a pain in the ass."

"We don't have booze here," replied the fat cook behind the bar. "What are ya, some kind of chink belly-dancer?"

"Call me a chink one more time and I'll spitroast you after I eat your eyes. You got a phone book?"

The cook gestured, apparently unperturbed by the threat. "Back there, Miss Chink." The miko stick detonated his mouth in a shower of enamel. While the cook was on the ground trying to get the chunks of tooth out of his sinuses, Reimu was checking the phonebook.

"McEvans, McFickwick…there it is, McFly!" She left the diner. She knew what she had to do.

Reimu walked down the street with purpose. Finally, she arrived at the McFly household. She blew the front door entirely through the house with an explosive amulet. "McFLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" she she yelled, bloodlust coursing through her veins. Two heads poked around the corner of the house's stairs, one greasy-haired, the other a bit messy. "SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" Reimu charged up the stairs, her demonic Gucci boots filling every footstep with double-super-AIDS-infected blood. The miko charged to the top of the stairs, but the father-and-son combo had already jumped out a window and run. Reimu growled. She blew out the entire back wall of the house and paced slowly out of the wreckage, looking like a total badass. Once that was done, she started running again. In a minute, she was back on Hill Valley's main drag, but there was sign of the McFlys. But then, something atrocious happened. A tiny toy truck rolled up her and dumped a tiny toy load of manure on the toe of her right boot.

"Oh, you've done it now, McFly," Reimu said as she looked over to the McFlys, who had popped up giggling from behind a low wall, R/C controller in hand. "You've done it now, you _chicken._" The younger McFly stood up. Reimu took advantage of this distraction. She leaped straight at McFly's face, her powerful legs buckling the concrete flags of the sidewalk and blowing gas and water mains across the town. Reimu flew at Marty's head a relativistic speed, and when she hit, used her long, smooth, well-muscled-yet-fine legs to trap his head in the classic Icelandic lock. "Take me to the time machine and get me back to the present day, and I'll consider killing you painlessly!"

As his face was forced ever deeper into the fragrant intersection of the miko's legs, Marty protested. "Wait! You need to know why we're doing this! This is heavy stuff!"

While the sonic vibrations produced by this protestation nearly distracted her, Reimu remained firm. _No. We can do that after the time-traveling. Besides, I don't have the proper equipment here._ "No!" she declared. "You've got five seconds, and then I'm popping your skull, fucktard!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," and oh-so-familiar voice said from behind Reimu.

"Marisa, you bitch whore tramp slut!" screamed Reimu. "What the fuck is this soap opera bullshit?"

Marisa sat there on her broom, nude but for an oversized witch's hat, from which the rest of her clothes dangled. "Nobody calls me chicken" was tattooed vertically down her formerly-cute tummy. "You see, Reimu, I love you. But I love Marty as well. I need to have both of you."

"Who the fuck cares?!" returned Reimu. I'll crush your boytoy like a rotten grape whether you want me to or not!" Marty tried to say something, but it was muffled into unintelligibility by miko crotch."

"Oh, but if you do that," Marisa smirked slyly, "You'll lose something even more precious." Reimu looked at her, and saw that she was aiming the mini-Hakkero directly at one of Reimu's Gucci boots, which had fallen off during her jump.

"That's low, Kirisame. Real fucking low. I expected better from you." Marisa still smirked. "But I've got someone on the inside too." Reimu used her free hand to activate her throat mic. "This is Crimson Tide to Bugshit Crazy. I repeat, Crimson Tide to Bugshit Crazy, over."

The smirk dropped off Marisa's face. "St-Stop it!"

Reimu ignored her and listened to her headset. "This is Bugshit Crazy to Crimson Tide. I read you loco cocoa, over." It squawked.

Reimu said into it, "I'm sorry, Bugshit, but we're going Code Pizzazz. Over."

"Crimson tide, confirm Code Pizzazz. Over."

"Code Pizzazz confirmed, Bugshit. Do it."

"…Yes, ma'am. It was an honor working with you, Crimson."

"And with you, Bugshit. Crimson Tide, over and out."

Forty kilometers outside town, Dr. Emmett Brown sat in a 2B1 Oka self-propelled mortar. He stood, and saluted, both to Crimson Tide and his semi-human Illuminati superiors. He sat back down, made final preparations, and fired the 420mm mortar. The incomprehensibly high recoil force tore the vehicle's engine off of its mounts and jolted all the tiny, hidden bags of weed that had been taped all over the vehicle into the air. The smoke from the gun was in Jamaican colors and smelled like weed. The shell took several seconds to arc over to Hill Valley, where it exploded with about 25 kilotons of energy, wiping the town off the map. The cloud, instead of being a mushroom, was a weed leaf, and it smelled like weed. Back in the destroyed Oka, Doc Brown lit up a weed joint made of weed. "Yeah, mon," he ruminated as the weedy weed smell of weed filled the weed-filled air.


	11. Chapter 11

Reimu took a hit from her pipe as she strode through the 150-foot bronzed doors to the Himalayan headquarters-monastery of the U.N.

"Daaaaaaamn, that's some gank-ass dank," she exclaimed as she passed the power-armored guards, each of whom had to call upon his entire reserve of forbearance so as not to drop his boltgun and begin spontaneous masturbation.

"Yeah, dawge," said the Force-spirit of Snoop Dawg from beyond the grave. Reimu bumped fists with him, and then entered the audience chamber.

"The great and terrible Miko of Hakurei, representative of the Anarcho-Pagan Republic of Gensokyo!" cried the heralds flanking the chamber's entrance.

"Wewcowm," called the representative of the United States, his greasy fists and mouth full of deep-fried, chocolate-dipped, bacon-wrapped turducken. As he ate, he dripped a wad of batter onto his pager and thus launched about $65 million worth of men and ordnance at several oil-rich, democracy-poor countries.

"public static void main(String[] args) {

if (mikoPresence == 1)

{

String s = "Welcome, Representative Hakurei.";

print(s);

}}"

said the representative from Japan.

"oi m8 nobbut nowt" said the Prime Minister of the Caliphate of Britbongistan.

Reimu, now thoroughly baked, returned the friendly greetings with a mellow "'Hey guys. What's shakin'." She took her seat.

After she did so, a heavenly voice echoed from the rooms shadowed ceiling. "We are all present. Let the conclavery commence." Action Bronson descended from the ceiling on a pillar made of Jeeps, thick bitches, and weed. He took his place at the podium, ceremonial gold chains and eight-pointed stars rattling.

"...or the Emperor..." The voice echoed through the massive room, nearly inaudible.

"printf("%s", "Theru itu izzu againu. Diddu yuu hearu thattu?")" the Japanese representative said.

"The Gensokyese representative has the floor," Action Bronson boomed.

"...urn the hereti..." It was louder now.

"Whaff ih the namhh ofh XXXX-L t-shhirffs ih dat?" the American rep exclaimed.

"Action Bronson! What do you see?" giggled Reimu as she toked some more.

Something crashed through the ceiling and slammed into the middle of the floor. "Chaos-bewitched scum! Repent and die, in the name of the Holy Ordos!" Inquisitor Yukari Yakumo stood up in the center of the shallow crater her impact had made. She was flanked by two gun-servitors each bearing a set of twin-linked autocannons and nameplates reading "Ran" and "Chen."

Action Bronson put on his protective rap-battling goggles. "How dare you interrupt our ritual! In the name of the Four Immortal Powers, DIE!" Before he could begin to spit mad beats, however, Inquisitor Yakumo stomped forward and back-handed him across the face with a ceramite gauntlet.

"Ze goggles! They do-BLAM!" Inquisitor Yakumo ended his miserable existence with a bolt round to the face before he could finish reciting the played-out meme.

"Ran, Chen." Her servitors perked up at the sound of their names. "Pattern Ontos Deii. Purge them all."

The autocannon shells tore everyone in the room to bits.


End file.
